


A Sister Is A Best Friend You Can’t Run Away From

by seriousfic



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-24
Updated: 2013-08-24
Packaged: 2017-12-24 13:02:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/940294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seriousfic/pseuds/seriousfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sarah wondered where she'd gone wrong. Probably when she let Helena tie her to the bed, she decided.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Sister Is A Best Friend You Can’t Run Away From

Sarah became aware of herself very slowly. She couldn’t quite remember the last thing that had happened to her—always a bad sign. There’d been some drinking and darts with Felix and… the rest was a blur. Wait, she remembered a car. She’d been in a car at some point.

 

Staring at the ceiling, she moved to rub the sleep out of her eyes—and found a silky grip on her wrist, holding her arm tight. She looked. There was a scarf connecting her right hand to the headboard. She moved her other hand to undo it, and found another scarf attached..

 

Who the fuck had she taken home last night?

 

“Good morning, seestra.” She was never going to be able to hear a Ukrainian accent again without a cold shiver running down her spine. Sarah raised her head to see her wayward twin in the doorway of the spartan little bedroom, carrying a breakfast tray, as nervous and eager to please as a maid on her first day. “How do you like our new room?”

 

“Our new room?” Sarah shook her head. She wasn’t in any mood to follow Helena’s twisted logic, not with her hangover. “Cut me the fuck loose, Helena. Right now!”

 

“No,” Helena said emphatically. She was barefoot, her toenails unpainted, with torn jeans on and a tanktop that hung off her, a size too big. “No! You are my sister and I love you, but this world has made you bad and rude.” Walking with measuredly rehearsed steps, she set the tray down on the bedstand, right beside the picture of Jesus, and sat down on the bed. “I will take care of you, my leetle seestra. Make you clean and pure again, so you can accept my love and we can sleep in bunk beds.”

 

Sarah sighed inwardly. Looked like it was time for another round of Coddle the Psycho, America’s favorite game show. “Alright, we’re clearly working through some issues here…”

 

Helena petted her gently, but haltingly, like she was trying to get used to the feel of her. Sarah struggled to keep still for the stranger’s touch. Helena smelled of strong soap, soap without anything sweeter to dilute it. The cleanest woman Sarah had ever known. “We are both the original, seestra, but only I am the light. I should’ve been with you to guide you, but the devil kept us separate. I’m sorry I wasn’t there, little seestra. I will be here now. I will take good care of you and you will reflect my light. We will have sleepovers and talk about boys, like best friends.”

 

Helena’s voice kept to a kind of monotone, but the excitement in her eyes was like that of a puppy bringing you a tennis ball, eager for it to be thrown. For lack of any other option, Sarah decided to play into whatever sick notion of family togetherness Helena had cooked up in that bag of cats she called a brain.

 

“That sounds great,” she enthused. “Why don’t you—“

 

Helena shoved a forkful of soft-boiled egg into her mouth. Sarah screwed up her lips, fighting the oversalted egg, but quickly swallowed before Helena could stuff more in. Which she did. Sarah swallowed that too.

 

“Nutritious breakfast!” Helena said, her nose scrunching up in the joy of providing for Sarah. “Mother should make this, but God decided we couldn’t have mother. I will be mother and father… or maybe you could be father? I’m flexible.”

 

“I’m not hungry!” Sarah protested before she had to spit any egg in Helena’s face.

 

Helena grimaced and set the tray aside. “You don’t work up appetite, lying in bed all day. Okay, seestra. Wash it down.”

 

She picked up a glass of orange juice and Sarah braced herself. Helena held the glass to her lips, tipped it slowly, giving Sarah ample time to gulp it down. It didn’t taste half-bad, and was probably decent for her hangover. She couldn’t believe she’d let herself get snatched by the Mormon Alice Morgan.

 

After the glass was empty, Helena set it aside and used a napkin to a dab Sarah’s lips. She’d probably make a hell of a dominatrix if the knowledge that people made money that way didn’t have her bathing in rosaries.

 

“Why don’t you lie down next to me?” Sarah asked, adding “Sister?”

 

Helena beamed. She could be a little cute when she wasn’t carving Baby Jesus into people’s hearts. Which was disconcerting, because it was Sarah’s face she was being cute with. And Sarah was the first to admit it, she herself _never_ looked that… wholesome.

 

Helena laid down on her side across from Sarah, wiggling about like a cat to get comfortable, but coming to a rest facing Sarah like a reflection. “Seestra…”

 

“I’m here,” Sarah said gently, turning her voice into a nice, soothing caress. “I’m right here, sis. You’ve got me.”

 

Helena closed her eyes peacefully. She took a deep breath. Despite herself, Sarah felt a little pride in instilling a measure of serenity in the _homicidal maniac._ Everyone deserved some peace of mind. Even _homicidal maniacs._

“Seestra,” Helena said again, rolling the word over her tongue like she could taste it. Then: “Sarah.” She tried the word out like it might hurt her, unused to the intimacy of it. Sarah found herself wondering if Helena’s keepers (she wouldn’t dignify them with any other title) had allowed her to call them by their names. “Sarah Manning…”

 

“Helena,” Sarah replied, “my sister.” And Helena beamed like a ray of sunshine through a dark window. It was getting to be a little gratifying, how easy Helena was to please.

 

Wiggling closer— _too close,_ Sarah thought suddenly, the nightmare thought of a knife being thrust into her suddenly hot and thick in her brain—Helena wrapped her arms around Sarah like she was one big teddy bear and the blonde had just had a nightmare. Sarah eased herself into the awkward embrace as best she could with her limbs bound. Helena pulled her tight. Her hands ran across Sarah’s body.

 

“So smooth,” Helena said in wonder. “So soft. And warm. Were you lonely, not sleeping in big seestra’s arms? I was lonely. God left a hole in me that only you could fill.”

 

“Helena,” Sarah said haltingly, afraid any syllable she said might shock Helena back into insanity. “Why don’t you untie me? Just one hand!” she added quickly, feeling Helena’s arms curl needfully around her. “So I can touch you too? So I can hold you too?”

 

“Seestra.” Helena moved her face against Sarah’s, fondly running her nose across Sarah’s cheek. “Will you still accept God’s love through me if I give you the evil of a choice?”

 

“Uhh… yeah. Definitely.”

 

“Be good, Sarah,” Helena said warningly, her face rubbing against Sarah’s like she was sniffing for immorality. “I like being nice to my dear, sweet seestra. Don’t make me not be nice.”

 

Helena sprawled over Sarah like a lion mounting its prey, taking her in like she was giving her one last chance at something, then propped herself up on one knee. Her hands settled on Sarah’s face. They massaged lovingly for a moment, Helena laughing at how Sarah’s skin squished and stretched, before she ruffled Sarah’s hair and slid her fingers up Sarah’s arm, all the way to the untidy knot at her pulse point. Helena undid it with a deft swiftness that made Sarah wonder how many times she’d had to tie someone up. Well, at least she was equally adept at untying them. That boded well. Right?

 

Sarah rotated her freed hand, as Helena suspiciously settled back down on top of Sarah, like she was pinning her down. After a moment, Sarah gently placed her hand at the base of Helena’s spine.

 

Helena’s tanktop was almost scandalously thin. On anyone else, Sarah might’ve taken it for sluttiness, but Helena probably just didn’t know how evident her body was through the worn material. When Sarah touched Helena’s skin, it felt hot, feverish. Sarah could imagine she was feeling Helena’s crazy, that it was heating her up like burning oil in an engine. She soothingly petted Helena’s skin, skating from the thin cotton to the small ribbon of skin between Helena’s shirt and the top of her frayed jeans. She tried to think of how she would comfort her daughter after a bad dream. Helena’s life had been close enough to a nightmare, after all, and she was family of a sort. It shouldn’t be that hard to summon up some affectionate feeling.

 

Helena winced at the feel of Sarah’s light touch on her bare skin, throwing her head up and fixing Sarah with an animal stare. Sarah felt a sudden desire to apologize, though she knew it hadn’t been her. It was just that Helena wasn’t used to being touched. She probably didn’t know how to process it. She would only know what felt good and what felt bad.

 

“Shhh,” Sarah whispered, making herself as soothing and nonthreatening as she could. She relaxed her face into a gentle expression and slowed down her circling touch on Helena’s inner back. “Does that feel alright? It’s okay if it doesn’t. I’ll stop.”

 

“No,” Helena said firmly. She looked away uncomfortably. “Good feeling. Keep going.”

 

“I’m your sister,” Sarah said emphatically. She trusted that Helena wouldn’t do anything to hurt family; it was just a matter of keeping her from forgetting it. “Your sister who loves and cares about you.”

 

“Yes.” Like a cat, Helena rubbed against Sarah, invading her personal space until she was perched atop the brunette, trying to fit into her lap. As if cracking a safe, Sarah pulled her tanktop up to her ribs and ran her fingers, feather-light, from side to side on the exposed skin. “You take care of me now. And I take care of you. So glad we found each other. So glad.”

 

“I’m glad too,” Sarah whispered. She imagined she was putting out a fire. Just keep pouring cool, sweet water on until all the heat is gone. Until not even an ember is left. “You’re so pretty, Helena. I have such a pretty sister.”

 

“Stop,” Helena insisted, her accent throwing a few Ws into the word. Sarah hesitated in her touch, before realizing that Helena was just objecting to Sarah’s complement, and resumed her strange massage. “Not pretty like you. Pretty and perfect seestra. Pretty but not strong like me. Strong to protect you.”

 

“You are strong,” Sarah agreed, happy Helena was making this so easy for her. As long as she was nice and calm and agreeable, Sarah could deal with her. “And you—“ Sarah broke off with a shiver. Her hand moving up Helena’s back, she’d just felt a knot of scar tissue like a compound fracture jutting from Helena’s skin. All but her hand frozen, she explored the upper reaches of Helena’s flesh, her hand under the tanktop. “Helena, who did this to you?”

 

“I did,” Helena said, almost proudly. “So I won’t forget when I’ve been bad.”

 

It would come as a shock to Sarah, later, remembering that the horror she felt for Helena had nothing to do with pacifying the murderer. She traced her finger down Helena’s back, careful to avoid the scars. Helena mewled obediently, delighting in the soft touch.

 

Sarah spoke calmly. “I don’t want you to do that anymore. Alright? I’ll help you… I’ll help you know if you’ve been bad. You don’t have to punish yourself.”

 

“But Father Tomas said, he said…”

 

“He’s not family, is he? Is he?”

 

Helena shivered in Sarah’s grip. “No. You’re family.”

 

Helena craned herself up again, up onto her knees to straddle Sarah. She removed her shirt. Sarah supposed it was vain to find it attractive, but that wasn’t a problem. Remembering the feel of those scars was more than enough to drown out how perky her tits were.

 

“Helena, what are you doing?”

 

“I like feeling you,” Helena said, her words slurring and slowing, as if asleep. She ran a hand over her breast, noting with interest the erect nipple, but not investigating further. The semi-masturbatory gesture left Sarah’s mind whirling. “I want to feel all of you. We can hold each other close, keep one another warm. Like sisters. Snug as bugs in rugs.”

 

“Yes, alright,” Sarah said, trying hard to push from her mind the memory of Cosima and some of her blurrier sex encounters. She couldn’t rightly claim to be a stranger to lesbian sex, but she damn sure didn’t talk to it at parties.

 

Then Helena picked up a knife from the bedstand. The absurd thought _When doesn’t this bitch have a knife on her?_ popped into Sarah’s head, followed by _Ohmigod ohmigod I’m gonna die._

Sarah spoke as calmly as she could. “Helena,” she said firmly, “Helena, put the knife down.”

 

“Seestra,” Helena slurred. She fisted her hand in Sarah’s shirt and pulled on it so hard she nearly strangled her twin, leaving the fabric ripe for the knife to cut through. In a second, Sarah’s favorite top was split down the middle. She held herself very still as Helena wrestled her black leather pants into the knife, skinning them. “God made us naked. We hide our shame with these rags, but we have nothing to be ashamed of with each other. I forgive you all your trespasses. Sweet girl.”

 

However much she’d surprised herself by being able to deal with an international cloning conspiracy with a modicum of success, Sarah couldn’t endear this without hyperventilating as hard and as loud as a broken engine. For once in her life showing some social graces, Helena set the knife aside and stroked Sarah’s face until her racing heart slowed to merely the level of an uphill jog.

 

Now Helena smiled beatifically, taking in Sarah’s nude body like there was nothing more sexual about it than a Renaissance painting. She hopped up from the bed and wiggled out of her jeans. No underwear, Sarah saw, and it was obvious the Brazilian wax wasn’t offered at Hannibal Lecter summer camp. She dropped her head back against the pillow, terminally unsurprised when Helena once more embraced her.

 

“So warm,” Helena breathed, delight evident in her voice. “So many cold nights before I found you. So many nights wishing I had someone to hold. I love you, Sarah Manning. We will be together forever and I will help you bring up Kira to be pretty and strong.”

 

At the mention of her daughter’s name, Sarah couldn’t help herself from gulping. The desire to get away from this freak and back to her real family was all-consuming. But she couldn’t dismiss a feeling of pity that had settled over her, examining this bereft creature when she hadn’t been programmed to kill some other poor wretch. Even if she did free herself and escape, she couldn’t just leave Helena with the monsters that had turned her into a twisted reflection of themselves.

 

She needed a hold on Helena, a leash, some way to exploit their ‘connection’ to keep her from hurting anyone else until a reputable looney bin could be found. But she doubted anything short of a vision from God would get Helena off her present kick.

 

Helena wrapped both arms and legs around her. She splayed herself across Sarah, burrowing into her, trying to get comfortable. Sarah moved about as limply as possible, trying to make a space for her twin. She kept resolutely quiet as the naked woman’s body ran along her own bare skin. It wasn’t an entirely unpleasant experience. Of all the things she might’ve expected to feel, all that showed up was the feel that Helena would go from this amicable, wounded young woman to the killer Sarah had seen so many times before. That, and the pleasurable friction of warm skin on warm skin, the only thing nature had really intended skin to touch. Silk, cotton, satin—those were all just cheap substitutes for smooth, warm skin. And it was Sarah’s skin too, in a way. An extension of herself instead of a foreign object. So in a way, the touch was as welcome as she herself scratching an itch. Her body barely knew the difference.

 

Then Helena’s leg met Sarah’s crotch.

 

Sarah gasped, shocked at both the sensation and how pleasing she found it. Helena might not’ve spooned with anyone, ever, but she was a fast learner, and with her legs intertwined with Sarah’s, she soon found herself with her head on Sarah’s shoulder and her arms around her back. It felt _too_ good, waking Sarah up from the fearful malaise her body had been in since she’d come to, and she clenched her thighs down on it. Helena’s leg worked almost automatically, rubbing up and down in a way that felt so nice Sarah could’ve sworn it was intentional. She moaned like she was letting out a tightly held breath.

 

“What’s wrong?” Helena asked, full of concern.

 

Sarah forced a smile. “Nothing’s wrong.” And, apropos of nothing, she kissed Helena on the cheek.

 

Helena blushed, but grinned automatically. A pretty smile; Sarah’s, but damaged and chipped. Still under repair.

 

That was it, Sarah thought. That was how she’d bring Helena over to her side. She’d used sex often enough to get what she wanted. It would work here too.

 

She kissed Helena’s cheek again, and the blonde continued to blush and simper. The kisses kept going. They moved along Helena’s beautiful face, always shying away from the lips, just making Helena giggle in joy for now.

 

“No, no!” Helena said finally, through her laughter, and she clamped her hand over Sarah’s mouth. To Sarah’s somewhat confusing satisfaction, Helena began kissing Sarah herself. Then licking her. The feeling was strange but startlingly intimate. “You taste good, seestra…”

 

“You bet your ass,” Sarah said, and grinned at how mortified Helena looked at the mild profanity. Helena’s leg was as slender as her own, obviously, but the thigh was impressively toned for life as a human weapon. It felt nice and hefty between Sarah’s legs. She gleefully rolled her hips into it, again and again,

 

She needed to bring Helena into this. Whatever quantum physics shit connected them, she imagined it would be easy to turn Helena on while turned on herself. She brought her free hand to Helena’s hair, locking her fist in it—the curls surprisingly soft for how untended they looked—and kissed Helena on the lips.

 

Helena moaned between breaths as she accepted Sarah’s tongue into her mouth. When it was over, Sarah went back to kissing her cheek and neck, hoping to show her it wasn’t so different.

 

“I don’t know what you’re doing,” Helena said in a dreamy voice. “It feels goooood…” She nuzzled against Sarah with a lethargy that bordered on sleepiness, now pressing them flush together, face to face, one leg between Sarah’s and the other hooked around her hip. Sarah felt nicely trapped by Helena; by holding on so tightly, she knew she had Helena.

 

Again they kissed, Sarah trying to be gentle and slow, when the aching heat at her core wanted her to ram her tongue into Helena’s mouth, start the sparks that would set her off. She concentrated on her free hand as it searched Helena’s bounty of hair for her pale shoulder, found it, and splayed her fingers on the small but firm musculature. Helena whimpered and Sarah could barely stop herself from kissing Helena’s lips bruised.

 

“Feels so dirty…” Helena muttered. “Wrong…” But she couldn’t continue that line of thought with Sarah’s mouth tighter and hotter against hers—not out loud.

 

“How can this be wrong?” Sarah asked, moving onto Helena’s ear. If they really had all that much in common, than being licked there would drive Helena absolutely wild. “It feels good, doesn’t it?”

 

“So good… seestra…”

 

Sarah rocked them from side to side until she was on top of Helena, her bound arm twisted at an awkward angle, but she could bear it for a few minutes. She grinded down on Helena’s pelvis, their bodies absolutely electric against each other. Her hand clamped down on Helena’s waist, holding her steady as Sarah mercilessly brought their sexes together—over and over again.

 

Helena let out a choked, throaty moan—too drawn-out and soft to be a scream, but getting there. She parted her lips, the look in her eyes begging Sarah to kiss her. Sarah gave in, distracting her sister while she reached between their bodies and cupped her wet mound.

 

Helena’s eyes shot open, her body stiffening. “Sarah!” she yelped in surprise. Still not a scream. Not yet. Sarah kissed her forehead, stroked her inner thighs, rubbed their sweating bodies together while giving Helena’s sex some relief, their flesh not touching down _there._ It calmed Helena quickly, but her eyes darted around as if fearful of being caught. “You must not touch between legs… that is where sin comes from. That is where God puts a woman’s sin.”

 

“No it isn’t,” Sarah said lovingly, as if Helena were just telling a silly joke. “It’s okay to touch down there. There’s nothing wrong with it. Don’t you trust me?”

 

“You’re my sister,” Helena said, saying it like she was turning the fact over in her mind.

 

“Don’t you trust your sister? Isn’t your sister taking care of you? Isn’t your sister making you feel good?”

 

“Yes, but… but…” Helena’s eyes rolled back in her head. She seemed on the verge of crying. Begging. “Please…” she said, not specifying what. Trusting Sarah to know.

 

Sarah kissed her again. Helena returned it immediately, her body responding where her mind couldn’t.

 

“Do you want to touch me down there?”

 

“I… I…”

 

Sarah took Helena’s hand in hers, giving it a friendly squeeze, and guiding it down their conjoined bodies. “There’s nothing bad down there. It’s just me. It’s just a part of my body that makes me feel good.”

 

Helena was breathing hard as Sarah brought her hand to her own sex, letting her get a feel for its wetness, its warmth, its soft invitation. Sarah pried a finger from her tightly knitted fist, then brought it to Helena’s pussy. Helena whispered nothings as she felt her own labia for what might have been the first time. When Sarah cocked her head down against Helena’s, cheek to cheek, she heard her praying.

 

“What are you asking God for?” Sarah asked softly.

 

“I want Him… to forgive me… for enjoying this…”

 

“Or maybe this is God’s reward for being His light. He brought us together, didn’t He?”

 

Helena was gasping, her eyes tightly closed, her lips working wordlessly. Whenever she stopped her silent conversation, her lips stayed slightly parted. She wanted another kiss, but Sarah wouldn’t give it to her. She wouldn’t let her go back to that.

 

“Does it feel weird?” she asked Helena, her lips inches from Helena’s, inches from giving her what she wanted, kissing her without kissing her. “Touching yourself?”

 

“Weirdbutgood,” Helena said in a rush. “I don’t know… I don’t know… I need to—“

 

“What you _need to do_ is listen to me.” Sarah spoke loudly without shouting, like she’d just caught Kira writing on the walls. Helena needed a firm hand, she sensed, it was what the blonde was used to. But she also needed a lot of love. “Now, would you like me to touch it for you?”

 

“Yes.” Helena spoke immediately. “I do, please, yes, seestra…”

 

“It’s going to feel very weird,” Sarah warned, “and also very good. I’m going to make you climax, Helena. I’m going to prove to you that there’s nothing wrong with this. Is that okay?”

 

“Yes. Please. I’ll be good, I’ll be good Sarah.”

 

That was all Sarah needed. Confirmation that she had Helena in her pocket. She moved gently but inexorably, slipping her middle finger into Helena’s sex carefully enough not to hurt her, but not stopping or slowing down for one instant. She watched Helena’s face, knowing what she would see. The shock of the intrusion. The anxiety over whether it would fit, hurt, damage. Then, disbelief that it could feel so good. The furrowed brow and twisted lips as the tension started, low in her stomach. The panting as the tension didn’t go away.

 

Sarah barely had to do anything. She curled her finger, ran her thumb over Helena’s clit, and saw her face redden with embarrassment at the telltale rush between her legs.

 

Helena’s mouth hung open afterward, slowly forming words. “Hallelujah… Hallelujah…”

 

“I’m assuming that’s directed at the big guy and not at me, but you’re welcome anyway.” Sarah rolled off Helena, massaging her sore shoulder once she’d shifted it back into a comfortable position. She thought of asking Helena to return the favor, but then, that would be _really_ fucked up.

 

Not that _that_ had ever stopped her before.

 

She gently cuffed Helena on the side of her head, snapping her out of it. “Helena, sister, I want you to untie me now.” Said loudly but without shouting.

 

Helena leapt to obey, and when she was done, Sarah gave her a quite sincere hug.

 

Sarah briefly thought of trying to ditch Helena, but then… no, fuck it. This wasn’t even the worst choice she’d ever made. And Helena certainly wasn’t the worst lover. It’d be worth it just to hear how Felix would blow his top. “Now let’s get dressed. We’re going to go somewhere safe.”

 

“Can I still sleep with you?” Helena asked, looking at Sarah like a puppy dog begging for table scraps.

 

Sarah smirked a little. Whatever else was wrong with the world, at least there was one thing she was good at. “Mind if I tie you to the bed?”


End file.
